


What Hides in the Dark

by Birdpeople (DeusExMachina)



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: But it's okay, I mean tagging for Jack's death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:06:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2240061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeusExMachina/pseuds/Birdpeople
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He looked up numbly.</p><p>A familiar face, altered in death. Hair as white as snow and eyes like chips of ice. A pallor that spoke of the depths of frozen lakes in winter. Cold. Suffocating.</p><p>And he said, voice calm and reasonable, "But Jack, you're dead."</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Hides in the Dark

Jack's family being traveling merchants meant Hiccup only got to see Jack for a brief time each year, but they were close friends and missed each other when they were apart. Jack wrote when he could. Hiccup saved his letters.

 

But one year Jack's family showed up without him. Hiccup questioned them, but they looked at him, eyes red-rimmed, and didn't answer.

 

Hiccup got a sick feeling in his stomach and begged and begged Jack's sister to tell him what was wrong. When she finally whispered that Jack was dead, Hiccup got up and ran blindly. He knew this island better than anyone. It was small and confining and his grief was huge, with monstrous wings and ripping claws. He holed himself up in one of the private caves he had found on the island.

 

He sobbed until his throat was raw.

 

A year passed. Slowly. On the anniversary of that day, he returned to the same cave. And the next year. And the next. Always in time to watch the heavy clouds roll in over the gray, whelming sea, bringing the first winter snows.

 

And he would talk to Jack and smile and try not to cry.

 

And four years after Jack had never come back, Hiccup fell asleep in the cave, snow piling silently at the mouth. He woke, shivering, to feel a hand on his shoulder.

 

He looked up numbly.

 

A familiar face, altered in death. Hair as white as snow and eyes like chips of ice. A pallor that spoke of the depths of frozen lakes in winter. Cold. Suffocating.

 

And he said, voice calm and reasonable, "But Jack, you're dead."

 

And Jack smiled even though he looked like his heart was breaking. "I know. Doesn't suit me, does it? You, on the other hand, look incredible. How dare you."

 

And Hiccup laughed, breath clearly visible. He shivered. "It's cold in here." Something nasty occurred to him. "Jack, if you're dead and I can see you, does that mean I'm dead, too?"

 

Jack shook his head. "Nope. I may have died, but I'm still here. Extenuating circumstances and all that."

 

Hiccup didn't really know what that meant, but he sighed, breath white and heavy. "Good. It's nice to see you, but I really didn't want to be dead."

 

Jack ran icy fingers absently through Hiccup's hair. "Then we'd better get you back somewhere warm. I'll tell you, freezing to death sucks."

 

Hiccup nodded, but didn't move. Neither of them did.

 

Jack stayed through the winter.

 

His presence was a blessing, a godsend, because it was always in this season that Hiccup began to sleep badly, to delay laying down his weary head until long after the sun had set, for fear of the nightmares. His breath would labor as he dreamed of gallons of water filling his lungs, washing through him as he became fluid and frozen, ice water in the lungs of another boy, his friend, a boy so alive not a minute ago and now so cold-

 

He was half-roused by the pressure of fingers digging into his shoulder. He heard Jack's voice hiss through the haze of tiredness that held him paralyzed.

 

"Go away, Pitch. He's under my protection."

 

And then came the laughter. It was rich and soft, like the velvet Jack's family sometimes brought to trade. Soft like the wool of a newborn sheep. Soft and deep and utterly terrifying. Hiccup whimpered in his half-sleep.

 

Jack made a quiet sound of his own. A hiss like dead leaves scraping across frozen ground. His icy fingers found their way into Hiccup's hair, grasping protectively.

 

There was a final, regretful sigh.

 

Hiccup opened his eyes. Jack was stroking his hair, pulling his fingers through the plaits that Astrid liked to leave him with. The darkness felt different than it had a moment ago. Close and safe.

 

"What was that?" Hiccup whispered.

 

"Just a friend. Go back to sleep."

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is quasi-birdpeople.tumblr.com.
> 
> I hope you liked it!!


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